And Then Came You
by MissCarbon
Summary: Mysterious, aloof, intriguing. Those were only a few of the reasons Ivanka Malachi was instantly attracted to Sherlock. And when her life begins to take a drastic turn who can she turn too? Will a man who is selfish and very closed lipped be her saving grace? Could Ivanka be the missing hole Sherlock needs to fill his heart?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own anything affiliated with BBC Sherlock.**

**Enjoy! :)**

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****PROLOGUE****

His back was to me. His shoulders slumped. It had been years since I had seen him. His once sandy-brown hair was tinged with gray. He stood very still, it was hard for me to tell if he was actually breathing. I stood, watching. After a long breathless sigh he looked up into the night sky and clasped his hands together behind his head. The sun had just dipped below the trees and darkness had begun to blanket West Norwood. The wind blew listlessly through the trees. I watched as he gripped onto his dingy leather jacket hugging it closer to him. I closed my eyes centering myself. I knew I'd have to face him, his letter that came to me in the post was tangible proof that I'd have too, but I just wasn't sure I could. This man was a figure in my past. A past that had changed my life drastically. _What am I doing?_ I questioned myself. It was time I faced the music, as they say. Reopening my eyes I broke free from the chains of my past that had been rooting my feet since I'd laid eyes on him. Swallowing the large lump in my throat I trudged forward, my heels clicking on the darkened concrete pavement. Hearing this he instantly turned around. His eyes lightened up and the wrinkles that were in the corners of his eyes seemed to disappear slightly with his smile as he looked in my direction.

"Ivanka, it's so nice of you to come." He opened his arms wide as I approached and I leaned into his embrace. I only stayed in his grasp for an instant before I backed away and held my breath. "I see you got my letter."

I nodded and attempted to put on a smile. "I did," was all I was able to say as my eyes dipped from his sad, aging eyes to the stone behind him. This made it real. Seeing this made it solidify that he was gone. Gone forever. My mouth went dry as I read the name over and over in my mind. All the events that had happened replayed over and over in my mind. My heart, which was already chipped and very fragile, felt like it was slowly breaking as I recalled the moments I had spent with the man who was, in reality, underneath our feet. Realizing this I took a step to the side and dropped to my knees and clutched the single red rose I had brought with me to my chest. The knot that had permanently lodged itself in my throat finally loosened and the threat of tears were inevitably close. I closed my eyes trying to center myself, yet again. Here I was almost breaking down and crying like an un-coddled child. Without speaking he moved closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, gripping it slightly. I knew he was trying to comfort me and as much as I hated to be breaking down in front of him I couldn't help it. This was all so much to take in. I reached up with one hand and placed it on top of his. I hoped I sent up my silent 'thank you' as I squeezed his hand.

We stayed together like that for an unprecedented amount of time. One of my hands clutching the rose and my other holding onto his. After gathering myself I raised my head and opened my eyes. The name on the tomb still wasn't easy to read. Every time my eyes roamed over the fourteen letters it seemed to shoot daggers that went straight to my heart, shattering it. Taking a deep breath I brought the rose to my lips, kissed the soft pedals, then laid the rose on top of the stone. I stood, eyes unmoving from the rose as I absently mindedly dusted off the knees of my black slacks.

"He was very fond of you." His words cut through the icy air like knives.

"Thank you, Watson," my voice a whisper. I cringed as his name passed between my lips. That was what HE had called him. I gave him a slight smile then returned my eyesight towards the grave. Little did he know how close we actually had become. Doctor Watson had been kept in the dark about our secret meetings and trips. And now, as I stared down at the grave of the man who had helped break my heart, I kept my lips pursed. Now wasn't the time to delve into the secret life I had shared with his ex-flat mate.

Watson stood beside me swaying slightly back and forth on his heels. I could sense the tension rolling off of him. There was something else lingering in the air between us. I looked over at him, smiling, to give him the non-verbal cue he had been waiting for. And my assumptions had been right. He spoke.

"Uh . . . Care to join me for a cup of tea?" My eyes immediately darted back to the tomb and my heart clinched in my chest. Though I know he wasn't physically standing in front of me at that moment my feet wouldn't and couldn't let me move. It had been so long since I was in his presence. Just standing next to his resting place and his old friend helped sooth some of the broken parts of my heart. I looked over at John who was still waiting for me to answer. "Ah, but take all the time you need here first." He backed away slightly leaving me and my memories alone. I placed a hand on top of the grave stone.

"You fool." I spoke to the empty air around me hoping, and silently praying, that his soul was around to hear me criticize him once more; as I had done many times in the past. And as if out of nowhere a soft breeze blew. Its tendrils felt as though they caressed my cheek as it brushed past me. My eyes widened and I looked around in wonder wishing that'd been his spirit touching my cheek for one last time. Before I felt like I was going crazy I finally looked back at John who was reading the front of other decaying tombstones as he kicked at small patches of grass. I tucked a dark strand of hair that had fallen out of place behind my ear and cleared my throat trying to get his attention. John hadn't noticed.

"Still wanting that cup of tea?" I tilted my head to the side and put on the brightest smile though I knew it wasn't convincing.

He brought his attention back to me and nodded. "Yes!" John Watson strolled over towards me and held out his arm. I laced mine with his and with one last look I turned around. Leaving the single rose and all my wonderful and terrifying memories behind on top of Sherlock's grave.

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**Thank you for reading!  
****Please review!**

**Note: A synopsis of the story is on my profile. If I get a decent amount of readers and reviews I'll continue writing this. Thanks so much for your time.**

**-Miss Carbon**


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with BBC Sherlock**

**Enjoy! :)**

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****Years Earlier****

"So he's a cop?" I tilted my head as I questioned my friend.

"Well . . . not exactly." She shrugged as she took another drag off the blunt we were sharing. "Let's just say that he's more like a . . ." Crystal scrunched her face as she tried to find the right word to use. "A . . . Consultant. Yeah! A consultant for the police." She nodded attempting to smooth over the worry I had running through me.

"Uh-huh," I stared over at her in disbelief.

"Seriously! Look we have nothing to worry about. He's been buying from me for a little over six months and nothing's happened yet." She positioned her body so she was facing me; a sweet smile permanently planted on her face.

"Yet . . ." I shook my head. This girl was crazy. Selling to someone even remotely close the London Police was a risk. One I sure as hell wouldn't be comfortable with.

"Here," she said handing me the blunt. Crystal stood adjusting her florescent pink underwear. "Finish that. I think you need it more than I do. It might help calm your nerves." Crystal laughed as she grabbed some large sweats from the laundry basket sitting in the middle of the living room floor that had been there for at least two days now then disappeared into her bedroom. I grumbled to myself and let my head rest on the back of the couch. As I took a drag I stared up at the ceiling. I would never understand Crystal and her extracurricular activities. Had I known she was going to be selling to someone tonight I'd have found something else to do, that's something I don't like getting involved with but here I was sitting on the couch on a gloomy Sunday evening. I kept taking drags rhythmically trying to let the smoky goodness do its job. Any other time I'd be ready to flip on the television to watch something funny but my mind was stuck on this stranger coming to buy illegal paraphernalia. What if this person was working as an undercover cop? What if he had been buying for six months is because he wanted her to think the exact way she's thinking now? That means the police's plan had worked! Feeling fear skitter up my spine I sat straight up and immediately put out the blunt. I couldn't be here! I couldn't get arrested!

"Crystal!" I called out from the couch, standing quickly. I was going to try my hand at talking her out of the deal but then as if on cue there was a knock at the door. My heart dropped to my toes.

"Yeah?" She came out of her room with a small baggie filled with white powder and tossed it on the coffee table next to the other baggie filled with the same stuff we had just smoked. The knock came again. "Oh he's here," Crystal said nonchalantly. My eyes widened and my palms instantly became sweaty. I couldn't be here! Crystal wasn't able to take one step towards the door because I instantly stepped in between her and the man who was going to bust in here and arrest both of us.

"NO!" I whispered as loudly as my lungs would allow. Crystal hung her head and laughed.

"C'mon Ivanka!" She tried to slip past me but I grabbed her by the shoulders, panic taking over and tried to push her away from the door.

"No!" I said again with a little more conviction in my voice this time. "What if he's undercover?" I thought anything above that would get her attention but I couldn't have been more wrong. She laughed. Loudly. This pissed me off. Here I was trying to save her life and all she could think to do was laugh in my face! I released her shoulders and crossed my arms and stared at her. Silently wishing I could shoot knives from my eyes to impale her. Apparently she caught the gist of what I was trying to do and silenced her laughing. The knock on the other side of the door came again, only this time it was a little more impatient.

"Do you trust me?" Her stare pierced my heart and instantly made me feel slightly guilty. I couldn't say anything I only nodded. Yes, I did trust her. She was practically the only thing close to a family I had. And after everything we've been through together how I could not? "Well good!" She placed her hand on my shoulders and stared at me squarely in the face. "Then trust me when I say that he's okay. He's not working undercover and he's not going to arrest either one of us."

"But how do you know?" I pleaded.

She smiled her brilliant bright smile. "Trust me. You'll see." Releasing my shoulders I sighed and stepped out of the way as she walked to the door. Standing on her tip toes she looked out through the peep hole then unlocked the door stepping to the side to let the stranger in.

"Good evening, Mr. Holmes. You're early." Crystal shut the door as he set foot inside our little flat. Hands tucked inside his large, buttoned-up wool jacket, not saying a word. He only nodded in her direction. I backed up towards the couch in the small confined living room and sat on the arm of the large purple sofa that had seen its better days many, many years ago. As Crystal tried to have some small talk with the stranger I studied him. He was tall, definitely over six feet. His hair sat in small dark messy curls upon his head. My eyes roamed over his facial features. He had crisp-clear light blue eyes that looked as if they could peer and penetrate your soul, a long straight nose, thin lips, and a chiseled jawline. His over grown coat, with the collar turned up, mind you, masked his slim figure giving him some depth to his thin size. I watched as he stood silently while Crystal talked. She picked up the small package of powder and handed it to him.

"One gram. Like always." She smiled her trademark smile as he took the package from her. Lifting it above his head, as if to get a better look, he turned it over in his hand, his eyes scrutinizing the contents. Crystal and I watched in silence as he opened up the small bag and sniffed. After a long moment he sealed the bag and finally spoke slicing the stagnant air in the room.

"It's rubbish." Without another word he tossed the small bag back onto the coffee table. I watched as Crysta's mouth fell open, unsure of what to say. She bent over to pick up the small baggie and stared down at it.

"I . . . I assure you it's the same as last time," Crystal pleaded, picking up the bag. "I always get it from the same guy."

"Take it back. And tell your guy that if he wants to make profit then he needs to stop cutting it with crap drugs." I watched as Crystal's eyes stared down at the bag trying herself to figure out how this man was able to tell the difference with one look and a sniff. "Until then have a good day."

And with that he slightly bowed and quickly turned grabbing the doorknob and disappeared out from whence he came. I let out a long deep breath, that I didn't realize I had been holding, and sunk into the couch, my legs dangling off the other side.

"Wow!" Was all I was able to say.

"I know." Crystal sighed and walked over to the couch, slinking down into it propping her elbow up on the arm rest.

"He's something," I said with much more conviction that I was willing to let on. Something about that man had caught my attention. He was mysterious and aloof. I had only laid my eyes on him for a brief moment, maybe a minute or two, but that had been enough. He was odd, yes, but very, very intriguing.

Crystal huffed, which was more like a small laugh. "I can't believe I lost out on that deal." She shook her head.

Still laying down on the couch I looked up towards her. "How did he know?"

"Hmm?" She turned her head slightly to the right to look down at me.

"How was he able to tell that it was different than the last?" Propping myself up on my elbows to get a better angle I stared into her dark eyes. She shrugged.

"I dunno'." She dug her cellular out from her large baggy sweats and unlocked her phone, messing with it. I returned to my original position, staring up at the ceiling with my legs dangling off the arm rest, my mind mulling over the visitor.

"What's his name?"

"It's Sherlock Holmes." She messed with her phone a little bit more before she spoke again. "See I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"Yeah," I sighed. "I guess you were right. He was weird enough, though."

"And that's exactly why I told you not to worry yourself." She chuckled and smiled down at me before she placed her phone to her ear and began talking to someone on the other end of the line. I didn't even pay any attention to what she was saying my mind was swirling and it only consisted with one thought: this strange Sherlock Holmes, the 'consultant' to the London Police. I didn't even realize when she stood to slip on some Ugg Boots. I wasn't paying much attention to anything until one of the boots landed straight on my stomach.

"Hey!" I yelled. In reaction I picked the boot off of me and flung it towards her. Laughing as she caught it.

"Get up." She locked her phone and put it in her pocket.

"What for?" I lifted myself slightly off the couch.

"We're going to make a small run." Confused I lifted my legs up off of the armrest of the old purple sofa and planted my feet on the floor.

"Run?" I tilted my head to the side in question.

"Yup. For Mr. Holmes." She pulled on her small pink jacket and adjusted the messy bun on top of her head and grabbed her large tote bag from off the small kitchen table and slung it over her shoulder. Without saying a word I jumped up slipping on my new black flats, I had just bought recently, and grabbed my purse from the table also. I was so eager to run an errand for the stranger that I hadn't even talked to that I didn't even ask questions as we left our small flat and caught a cab right outside in the drizzling rain.

xXx

Looking back I might should have asked questions.

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**Thanks for reading!  
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**-Miss Carbon**


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